Travler's Stories
by Lizard Pie
Summary: In the presence and then absence of Liam, Sam tries to piece together exactly what little she knows. Based on old, and for some parts dropped, canon.


AN: This story is actually ancient; and by that I mean it's from early November of '07 and I can't believe that I had never put it up here. Um... this is a prediction of the relationship which is now canon long before it was so; mostly based on theories within the forums and my own musings. Stuff that I used then is no longer valid now (such as that Crate and Apparel was in existence), and I may re-visit the topic. But it stands as a testament to what I had done back with my skill level and what information I was provided, so I don't want to go back in and change anything here. The only edits done are the addition of italics because I think it makes it a little easier to navigate; and if I remember correctly that had been my original intention.

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The thing you had to remember when talking with Liam was that he preferred to use the word 'cold' in place of 'lonely' or 'abandoned' or, god forbid, 'alone'. Cold was something everybody had to suffer through. Cold was never anyone's fault, it just happened.

The others, he felt, you had to do something to earn.

So, all those years he spent sleeping under cardboard and eating out of trashcans, Liam had never been alone. That first winter where his caretakers couldn't even drop him off near an orphanage when it was going to snow in less than a week, Liam hadn't been abandoned.

He'd just been cold.

No matter how much the curious would try and get out of him exactly how long he'd been out there, they never quite managed. Somehow, Liam would steer the conversation away; and, before you knew it, you were miles away without any real answers.

By the time you figured it out, probably purposefully there was no polite way to turn the conversation back to his childhood. You'd just have to continue talking about the weather, or sports, or whatever it now was. Sometimes, when you came too close to finding something out, he turned on the charm and you wouldn't realize what he'd done until you'd already parted ways.

Sometimes, when the shops had closed for the nights, Sam would head across town to his basement repair shop. They would look over the old schematics of Bots –still in the archaic language of the warring time –and speak in excited whispers about the bits of design.

_How exciting would it be to include something like that?_

_What was the function of this?_

_That was inspired when the supplies to the city were cut off in the third war, wasn't it? It's a nice way to save on metal parts…_

The fact that they'd found these through the black market, and the fact that what they were doing was very much illegal, only made it more fun.

Sometimes, when Liam had been given a Bot to repair, she would catch him sitting on the floor and watching it. He'd be taking it apart very slowly and carefully, far past the point it needed to be repaired. He was waiting to find out exactly which part made it stop moving.

Then, he'd grudgingly put it back together and fix it –making very sure to wipe the memory clean.

Not that Sam was particularly surprised –this could be seen as mere curiosity. It was the fact that he seemed to enjoy it so much that disturbed her.

_Maybe you should talk to someone_, Sam would tell him.

_I don't need anything like that._

_No, really, Liam. This stuff, it's just not good to keep it…_

_I don't need anything like that_, he'd say. His tone of voice and posture would say that the conversation was over. The way his eyes would darken was a flat warning not to challenge that.

So, as they always would, they'd go right back to their nightly rituals of deciphering the old text.

The thing that you had to remember about Liam, though most people didn't, was that he always knew exactly what he was doing. He simply didn't like to show how much power he had over someone, and what they were going to do next. That made it so much easier to fight against him. So, more often than not, he'd play stupid.

_Oh, I just forgot that shipment was coming today._

_Did we have a date? I just got caught up doing other things._

_Well, I didn't think you wanted to be too serious, I didn't think dating other people was going to be an issue._

Just as he'd wanted, people would get so angry at him that they would leave. So, of course, he never had to worry about someone coming so close to him. As long as they were at arm's length, he was perfectly safe.

Sam had known him nearly six years since he'd first shown up in Aekea. He'd just dropped out of the sky one day –opening a shop and making the storeroom above it into an apartment and the storeroom below into a makeshift workshop.

Over those years, finally being paired with an peer of similar interest, they were able to become friends. Just short of siblings, at points.

They would talk for hours and, over the years, she'd told him near everything.

How much, really, had he told in return?

He was originally from Barton, but had traveled up to Gambino Island; they were both wonderful places if you had money. There were beautiful women here and here, you could learn a lot about robotics from the people around there. You should really see this before you died –it was worth the pain in the ass it was to find.

Traveler's stories, like you would share after a long trip and pair with a slide show and iced tea. Serve some pastries on the side to keep people busy while you went on for the next three hours on how pretty the trees in the park were and how you ended up getting athlete's foot.

Nothing that anyone wanted to hear about, and nothing they would remember a week later.

She didn't even know his last name… had he told her at one point and she'd forgotten it? Not that it would do much good. Josie had complained that she could find no records about the name he'd put down on his permits.

Eventually, when all the money was counted and found to be acceptable, the issue slowly faded. Maybe Josie was still looking into it, when she had time.

Who the hell was this guy, anyway?

_You spend more time with him than anyone else; and I know those other girls wouldn't know anything other than what position he liked._

Sam had to shake her head and say that she really didn't know.

Liam was just Liam.

He ate toast with grape jelly everyday for breakfast and drank cheap scotch with dinner. He liked telling nasty jokes, and giggling at them like he was ten. His favorite movies involved ninjas. He liked fans on at night and slept under a pile of blankets. He half-jokingly would threaten Bots with a wrench if he was angry.

That was all.

When you really thought about it, this was pathetic. He knew everything about her, and nearly everyone else he came in contact with, but she knew nothing of value of him.

Was there someone else who could say more?

Probably not… that was a bragging point.

They really shouldn't have been as surprised as they were when, one day, he just wasn't around anymore. Travelers don't stick around very long, after all, and they sure as hell don't announce when they were going to be leaving.

Too much preparation ruined the spirit of adventure.

One day, there was someone new in Crate and Apparel. This new person had never known a Liam, they insisted.

_Are you going to buy anything?_

_No, you can't look upstairs. Or downstairs._

_This is a private business._

The people who came looking for him knew just about as much as anyone did. There was little to be learned from the lines of other acquaintances who would wander into her shop.

From Durem, Sam now knew that he had taken in a Gwee even though he'd been asked pointedly not to. This girl hadn't seen it later, of course, but she'd felt him mouthing to it to wait for him outside while they were hugging.

Another, he would come in once every two months to have his tips redone and a shave with a straight razor. That was a treat, or something. After a breakup, she'd wanted to slice his jugular more than a few times; but then he would smile at her and she'd continue as she had been.

From Barton, he could win drinking contests for you, but you'd rather not have him around afterward. He was a... rather friendly drunk.

From Gambino, he was learning how to play blackjack; though he still wasn't any good at it. Oh, and he smiled a lot when he was taking a beating.

But these things… they could have been said of anybody.

Other than the few pictures of the Bots he'd built, there was really nothing left of Liam. They didn't even have a Bot to remember him by; after one had served its purpose, it was dismantled and sold for parts to pay off what it had cost to build.

Sometimes, after the shop closed and the city was dark, Sam would look at Crate and Apparel over her walk home. The room above, now most likely a storeroom again, was dark.

He wasn't walking back and forth and talking on the cell phone. He wasn't dancing a bit to the radio as he folded laundry.

After a few weeks, his name slowly began to fade from people's lips. After a few more, it took people a while to realize who you were talking about if you mentioned 'Liam'.

_Oh… he was that blond boy who ran the clothing shop, wasn't he? He always played his music too loud._

_Liam? He was a bit of an exhibitionist, wasn't he? Indecent for children._

After a while, Sam found herself beginning to forget, as well.

There was a picture of them at a summer festival; arms around each other and wide, obviously posed grins on their faces. Or was that his real smile…? That couldn't have been… he'd been much more subtle than that a lot of the time. He was playing for the camera… Wasn't he?

Why didn't she have another picture to check…?

There was proof that, at one point, there had been a guy named Liam who would brag about his conquests like Sam was his locker-room buddy and spend nights with her deciphering schematics they had no business reading.

He wasn't just some bit of imagination.

He was just gone now.

She hoped, whenever his wanderlust was finally satisfied, he was going to wander back to Aekea. He'd just fall out of the sky, like he had before, and set up shop.

They would go out and get a beer while he shared more travel stories in place of real information about himself. By the end of the night, there would be some girl on his arm who would end up in his bed.

They would share jokes, and she would tell him everything he ever wanted to know –and probably a lot more than that.

But, Sam had to remind herself, the chances that he was never coming back were very real. Liam did a lot of things he knew very well were illegal. He was arrogant and a hopeless flirt. He was oblivious, sometimes, to exactly how terrible the people he was mixing up with were.

Maybe he was dead.

Or maybe he'd found someplace to finally settle down. He'd set up a shop someplace she'd never go to, and had now found a new family of sorts. Someone new to share his jokes and insights. Maybe someone had finally tamed the eternal bachelor, and he had a set of children. Maybe he was homeless again. Or maybe he'd just fallen off the face of the Earth.

When she actually remembered to think about it, it killed her that she didn't know.

Sam could only hope that, wherever he was, he wasn't cold.


End file.
